ASZ: Chronicles
by niklovr
Summary: Tired and jaded, the group arrives at the Alexandria Safe Zone. After multiple losses, their emotional stability is fractured & their need for sanctuary competes with their doubts. This is story about love, family, & starting over. [Richonne & Dasha]
1. Chapter 1: Reverie

Chapter 1: Reverie

_reverie (noun) – a state in which you are thinking about pleasant things_

The prison fell. Hershel died. So did Bob, Beth, Carol, and Tyreese. With losse came gains in new members to their family of travelers. Michonne recognized that losing did not come without pain. That was a lesson she learned long ago and one that she knew would not be forgotten. Still, she found herself feeling energized that morning. Her movements were stronger and a faint sense of yearning rose in her chest.

"Hey," Rick said, moving into step beside her. Morning sunlight made his blue eyes appear bright and clear. Judith rested comfortably against his chest. A sleepy smile hinted that the baby's dreams were happy.

"Hey yourself."

"Sleep okay?" he asked. "You were up earlier than usual."

"Keeping tabs on me?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Where did you go?"

"Daryl…" she said quietly.

Rick's eyes narrowed. "He brought back a lot of squirrels. Anything else happen?"

She shrugged. "Nothing big. Just took out a few walkers."

"A few?"

Michonne hesitated, unwilling to expose a friend. She understood struggling and grief. Losing so many that they cared about in a short amount of time had taken its toll on everyone, but she had started watching Daryl. Maybe it went back to the weeks they searched for the Governor together. Their friendship was different. Daryl and Rick were like brothers, and her relationship with Rick had yet to be clearly defined. Still, the three of them were close. She wasn't sure what to tell Rick.

"I'll talk to him," Rick said after watching her face for several steps.

"Again?" She frowned.

"Bad idea?"

"He's not ready, Rick."

"Okay. I'll wait."

Michonne glanced at him. He smiled. The gesture had become a new thing between them, occurring as frequently as the stares. After Grady Memorial and what occurred after, none of them had a reason to smile. Michonne hoped the feeling of optimism was contagious. They all certainly needed it.

"What were you thinking about before?" he asked. "You had this…look on your face. You looked—I don't know—serene."

"It'll sound crazy."

"What's a little crazy between us?" He looked at sleeping Judith. "She won't tell. Come on. I wanna know."

If not for the soft footsteps of the others walking with them or one of Abraham's gruff laughs or his off color language, believing that only she and Rick were on a leisurely stroll would be easy.

"Today feels different," she confided.

"How?"

"I don't know," she said. "It just does. Like a change is coming. I'm ready for a change."

He stared at her intently as he said, "Me, too."

"A place…a place where we can call home. Where we can be safe."

He nodded. "That too."

"What other change were you talking about?"

Rick smiled again. "You know."

# #

_Two weeks later…_

Rick and Michonne stood in the back of the community center. They had reached Virginia without further causalities and discovered the Alexandria Safe Zone soon after. Trusting the space as a sanctuary was not easy for Rick, but the people accepted them. After close to a week of sleeping in barracks, they were in line for housing assignments. Of course, Abraham was first with Rosita at his side. Maggie sat at a table with Tara and Eugene while Glenn stood for the four of them. Nik Cassidy represented his family of four and waited behind Glenn. Daryl and Sasha stood together with Noah and Father Gabriel following. Rick told Carl to sit with Judith on the sofa and he came behind Michonne in line.

"This may take all day," she commented dryly.

He nodded, but her words hadn't registered. His thoughts had been on the impending separation. For weeks, he had grown used to having Michonne nearby. The sounds of her gentle breathing as she slept often helped him relax into a light slumber. His children doted on her. He couldn't deny that he did, too. If she planned on rooming with anyone in particular, the information was a secret to him, but the fact remained that roommates were a necessity as housing was limited. And if her choice was between him or Father Gabriel, Rick wanted Michonne with him and not that cowardly sonuvabitch.

"Mmm…" He grazed her fingers with his. Upon her look, he said, "I want you to live with us."

Her dark brown eyes widened. Her response was not immediate. "That was blunt."

A faint smile curved his bearded mouth. "I wasn't sure how to ask."

"Asking is always good," she said. There was a hint of amusement, but not much. "Is this what Carl wants?"

"Probably."

She frowned. "Probably?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. He hasn't said anything. I could ask him. Ca—"

"Wait." She touched Rick's arm. "Wait. Don't."

The line moved. She took a step forward. Rick moved closer to get a better reading of her expression. Sometimes, he thought his skills had improved. The guardedness was gone. She stopped closing herself off long ago. But she still managed to keep her thoughts concealed. There were times he could read her eyes, though. He'd look into those brown orbs and know that her thoughts mirrored his. He'd know he wasn't crazy because she understood him and they were of the same accord.

"I'm not asking for Carl," he said quietly, "or for Judith."

"I'm not a charity case—"

"You didn't let me finish." He touched her hand. Out of habit, he looked around to assess their surroundings. On the road, there was always the threat of danger. He had to be alert. He couldn't let down his guard for a moment. His quick look around the center assured him that all was safe. No walkers or threats from the living. Once satisfied, he allowed his gaze to enjoy the beauty of her face, the warmth of her brown eyes, and the feel of her fingers against his. "I'm asking for me. For me, Michonne. I'm asking for _me_. Will you live with us?"

"Share your house?"

He shook his head. "More than that. Share my bed. When you're ready."

"That's quite a request, Rick Grimes."

"It is," he said, realizing that she hadn't moved away from his touch. "What do you say?"

She frowned as she nodded. "Okay."

"Good." He grinned. "I was getting worried there for a minute."

She shook her head. "No, you weren't."

His expression sobered. "Yeah, yeah I was. This will be good."

She nodded again. "I hope Carl will be okay with the arrangement."

"Are you kidding me?" Rick asked.

"You never know."

"He'll be fine."

# #

The two-bedroom/two-bath house came with furniture and fairly stocked pantry. Daryl decided that come morning he would supplement their rations with squirrel meat and whatever else he could find on his morning hunt. With his bag over his shoulder and his crossbow in hand, he trudged down the hall in search of a spot to lay his head. The first bedroom with its queen-sized bed and attached bathroom suited him just fine so he claimed it. He heard Noah and Father Gabriel behind him, so Daryl blocked out their conversation.

Arriving in Virginia had filled most of them with promise, but not Daryl. He felt as if he'd left everything that mattered in Georgia. Sometimes, he wondered why he continued but then Lil Asskicker would smile at him or Noelle Cassidy would question him about the damn crossbow and then Daryl would have a break from his constant funk. It wasn't that he enjoyed feeling this way. But after watching Beth murdered in front of his face and Carol ripped apart by walkers, he wasn't sure about anything. Losing Merle had hurt and these losses cut just as deep.

"There are no more bedrooms," Sasha said, standing in the doorway.

"Are they sharing that other one?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah, it has twin beds." She folded her arms across her chest and exhaled. "I'll take the couch."

"You don't have to."

"I don't want you giving up this room for me," she said.

"Did ya hear me offer?" Daryl asked. "I ain't."

She came fully into the room and headed for the bed. "I suppose it's big enough."

"Um… I'll take the floor," he said.

"You're not sleeping on the floor. We can share the bed."

Daryl frowned. "Or I can take the couch."

"You're not giving up the room, right?" she said with a faint smile. "There's plenty of room. I always sleep on the edge anyway. We can do this."

Daryl stared at her, wondering if she was serious. The trip from Georgia had been hell for her, too. She spoke little. This could have been the most he'd heard her voice in a long time. Tyreese had gone down while trying to save Carol. The memory of that attack played in Daryl's worst nightmares.

"The bathroom's there." He pointed.

She dropped her stuff beside his bag and went inside. He followed at a slower pace.

"The shower is huge. Not bad on the tub," she commented. "I wonder if there's soap."

A knock sounded on their outer bedroom door. Noah came in and Gabriel trailed after him. "Are y'all staying in here?" Noah asked.

"Together?" Gabriel added.

"Yeah," Daryl said, his voice hard, daring them to question anything further.

Sasha stepped out and asked, "Is there a problem?"

Noah shook his head. "It's cool with me. I was gonna give you my bed if you needed somewhere to sleep. Glad y'all worked it out."

The teenager left. Gabriel lingered. He obviously had more on his mind, but whenever his gaze met Daryl's, he seemed to retreat inside himself.

"It's none of my business."

"No, it ain't," Daryl said.

"They're passing out assignments at the employment office," Gabriel said. "I'll see what's available."

"That's a good idea," Sasha told him.

Upon his hasty retreat, she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed. Daryl regarded her relaxed position. She seemed to sink into the mattress and her body sighed with the effort. Just watching her made him antsy. He looked out the window. An urge to hunt came over him, but it wasn't food that he wanted.

"What do you think about this place?" she asked.

"It looks safe enough. The walls're high. Fortified," he said. "It'll take a bulldozer to knock that shit down."

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "I try to think this will be good. A good beginning. A place for us to start over. The last few days, I've tried to think of all the good things that could happen here."

Daryl turned from the activity of Glenn and Maggie moving in next door with Tara and Eugene to focus on Sasha. Wetness shone on her cheeks. He stepped to the foot of the bed and looked down at her. Offering comfort was difficult. He wasn't able to reach out. Not yet. But he could listen.

"I don't know about that kind of good, Sasha. I thought I did, but I don't no more."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. "Me either."

He shouldered his crossbow. "Wanna hunt with me?"

"Where?" She sat up.

"Outside the walls. I can't be cooped up. I need to get out," he said. "You can come if ya want."

"Are we hunting squirrels and rabbits or walkers?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you wanna kill. Don't matter none to me."

"Okay." She swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Count me in."

**[Author's Note: Thanks for checking out the story. If your interest is piqued to read more, let me know. This story will focus on the pairings of Richonne and Dasha, but others will also be featured as the "family" adapts to life inside the safe zone. Richonne will have the struggles of adjusting as a family unit with other obstacles thrown in, whereas Dasha are coming to terms with the darker sides of their personalities. Of course, everything is open because the gang is back together. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!]**


	2. Chapter 2: Ethereal

Chapter 2: Ethereal

_ethereal (adjective) – unworldly, spiritual; very delicate_

Michonne wanted to talk to Carl alone, but everything happened so fast. Rick's offer. Her acceptance. Then the keys were in their hands and the four of them were on the porch about to walk inside their new home. _Home_. Her chest swelled. Four walls. A roof. A kitchen. Two bathrooms. Living room. Bedrooms with beds and mattresses. She looked at Rick and he nodded for her to walk inside first. Carl followed. Rick with Judith in his arms claimed the rear, closing the door behind them.

Of course the space wasn't nearly as decked out as her Atlanta condo, but she wasn't fool enough to turn it down. Carl moved past her to run down the hall. Rick's heat warmed her from behind.

"See," Rick said, "he's fine with you being with us. It's where you're supposed to be."

"He doesn't realize I'm staying." She turned when Judith grasped one of her locks. The baby reached for her and Michonne accepted the offer.

"You unlocked the door," Rick said with a faint chuckle, handing the baby to Michonne's open arms. "I think he's figured it out."

The boy's loud footsteps thudded on the hardwood floors to announce his return. "Everything works! The lights! The water! The toilet flushes! It's like a _real_ house!"

"Everything worked in the barracks," Rick said. "You know that."

"I know, but it's…different," Carl said. He gave Michonne a big smile. "It's home."

"It can be," she said, still feeling uncertain. "Is there a crib for Judith?"

"Yeah," Carl said. "Follow me." He headed back down the hall.

Rick stepped forward. "I'll take her."

"No, we just need a minute," she said.

He nodded. "They're giving out work assignments. Want me to wait or go?"

"You can go," she said. "We'll be okay."

He clasped her hand. "I won't be long." Then in a sudden move, he bent forward and kissed her cheek. The fine hairs of his beard pricked her cheek. "It'll be fine."

"Michonne?"

She followed Carl's voice. The door clicked close upon Rick's exit. They understood so much about each other, but it was clear that the senior Grimes had no idea how his invitation moved her. She was scared to admit to herself how much she wanted this to work, but if Carl was not okay, she would leave.

The teen stood in the master bedroom. A perfect cherrywood crib stood against the wall adjacent to the queen-sized bed. The other furnishings included a dresser, two nightstands, lamps, and a mirror. The bathroom and closet seemed just as appealing as everything else.

"Wow," she murmured under her breath.

"There are probably sheets and stuff in the hall closet. I can check," Carl offered.

"Wait." She sat on the bed and patted the space beside her. "Sit."

He joined her and turned so that he faced her and the baby. Judith grabbed his fingers and pulled them into her mouth.

"Your dad invited me to live here, too."

"Yeah."

"Carl…" She frowned. Hesitation struck her. Why did she let Rick leave?

"Of course, you're staying with us," Carl said.

She sighed. Maybe if she wished hard enough, Rick would magically return with all the right words and explanations for what was about to happen. _Yeah, right_.

"Why are you being weird?" Carl asked.

"You think so?" She searched her mind for the right words. Stalling had never been her way. Not before or since. "Your dad… I…"

"You're gonna sleep in here with him, right?" Carl asked.

"How did you…? No." She inhaled a deep breath. "Maybe. Or on the sofa."

"Why not in here?" Carl asked. "He wants you to."

Michonne should have expected his bluntness, but she hadn't. The words scrambled in her mind for the right way to continue this conversation. Their relationship was just as important as the one she had with his father. "Would you be okay with that?"

His eyes widened. Then a thoughtful frown creased his forehead. "Do you want to?"

The question surprised her. "I don't know."

"You don't have to," he said. "There's an extra bed in the other room. You can sleep in there with me."

She smiled and a laugh erupted at the thought of Rick's reaction. It wasn't that she didn't want to share Rick's bed or his home. The act of it was a big step. With children involved, she had to be sure. Only a short time had passed since they lost the prison and the others. Prior to that, she and Rick had danced around their attraction. The devastation of their losses had changed their outlook, as a group and Rick's in particular. She understood his urgency, but was the timing right or forced?

"Michonne?" Carl said, "We're family. All four of us. I'm gonna look for sheets." He stood and headed to the hall. In the doorway, he paused to add, "I've been hoping for this. We'd find a place. And it'd be all of us together, and it happened."

# #

With every fallen walker, Sasha remembered the sight of Tyrese as he tore into a herd one last time. His hammer swung and blood splattered. How many times had he protected her and others using the same technique and skill? Her brother had never been a violent man, not even before the dead returned to life with an insatiable vengeance. But her brother had always had a protective streak. Always wanting the best for her. Regardless the cost to him. Except that last time, it wasn't her he took his last breath for and she was not fast enough to have his back.

"Ugh!"

She drove the homemade spear into the walker's eye with all her might. A trail of truly dead walkers marked the path that she and Daryl had taken deep into the woods. He didn't waste bolts on these runs. Instead he used his knife. Standing back to back, they worked through walkers like kids punching balloons.

Conversation was limited on these excursions. Since their arrival in the Alexandria Safe Zone, the two had slipped out a few times to release their urges beyond the constricting walls and gated entry. Bypassing the guards in the tower offered some difficulty, but they managed. It was the return into the barracks that had proven the most challenging. Now that they had their own space, there came the promise of freedom to come and go without too many hassles.

"Could go deeper," Sasha suggested.

"It'll be dark soon," Daryl said.

They headed back without hesitation. Maybe tomorrow or the day after, they'd go farther out. She felt better knowing that she was doing her part to eradicate the pestilence that killed her brother and Bob. There was nothing she could do to bring them back, but a dead walker was better than one free to roam and destroy families. The adrenaline rush felt good, too. Out there, slaying walkers with Daryl, was the only time she felt truly alive again. Then, the blood pumped through her veins and her senses came alive. Otherwise, her body seemed to float along and her thoughts drifted far too much for her to claim any peace of mind.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered, squinting as he paused to stare at the guard tower.

"What's wrong?" The sun was starting to set. She raised her hand to shade her eyes from the light. "I can't see it."

"Look like that fucker Linc is in the guard tower," he said. "Sumbitch damn near caught us last time."

"We can go 'round back."

Daryl shook his head. "Take too long. Looks like they changed the schedule. Who knows which asshole is back there?"

"You scared?" She grinned at the hard look he gave her.

"No. You?"

"Nope," she said.

"C'mon."

Sasha followed him. Despite the temptation to tease him, she had to admire his ability to find the loophole. The ASZ was airtight, but every time they needed to leave, Daryl found a way. He got them out and he got them back in. In a world where her trust had been sorely tested time and again, Sasha trusted Daryl. It was something she wouldn't let herself dwell on. It just was.

# #

The sign read 'Employment Office' and Rick had to laugh. He wondered if they'd want to check his urine, too. The building was nothing more than a trailer. A line of his people trailed from the front. Eugene and Gabriel were at the door. Noah stepped out and Eugene went inside. Rick moved in behind Glenn. The younger man gave him a faint smile and quick nod.

"Where's your place?" Glenn asked.

"About two houses from you, I think," Rick said. "Daryl and Sasha are between us?"

"Yeah," Glenn nodded. "I think so."

"How's…everything?"

"Maggie's resting," Glenn said, straightforward. "Tara offered to stay with her. I needed a break."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I don't know what to do anymore."

"You're doing alright," Rick said. "It just takes time."

Glenn blinked and rubbed his eyes. "How much? How long?"

"I don't know. You're not in this alone," Rick said. "Just because we're here now, doesn't mean anything's change. We're still family."

Glenn nodded. "Hershel would know what to do. He'd know what to say."

"He loved you like a son," Rick said. "Never forget that."

Rick patted Glenn's shoulder. The loss of two Greene family members and Sasha's brother were constant reminders of just how important family was. Bloodlines didn't matter. The bond between all of them was spiritual. Few could understand it. Rick noticed how the current residents of the safe zone regarded his group. The habit to look toward Rick for guidance hadn't changed in the week since they arrived and they had been granted admittance inside the gates. Even the Cassidy family that joined them a few days after the Grady tragedy had managed to slip inside. Although expanded since the prison, the unit was strong.

A few minutes later, Glenn and Rick had their assignments in hand as they left the trailer. Nik Cassidy and his daughter, Noelle, joined them. They also carried sheets of paper.

"We're split up," Nik said. "School, clinic, and farm duties. How did you make out?"

"Constables," Glenn and Rick said in unison.

"Maggie is helping out with the farm, too. Tara has the commissary," Glenn said. "Who's farming in your family?"

"Dad, Dominik, and me," Noelle said. "Mama is at the clinic."

"You and your brother are at the school, too," Nik said. "As students."

"Oh fun," Noelle complained. "Mr. Grimes, have you seen Daryl?"

Rick bit back a smile. "Not since this morning."

"We're inviting everyone over for dinner tomorrow," Nik said. "You can bother him about more crossbow training then. We'll see you later."

"Later," Glenn said.

Rick nodded. Father and daughter walked to their new home.

"Think Daryl knows she's his biggest fan?" Glenn asked.

"He'll figure it out sooner or later," Rick said, "but she is good with that crossbow."

Glenn smiled. Rick realized that weeks had passed since he had seen his friend with a happy expression on his face. Michonne had been optimistic that this place would make all the difference for everyone. He hoped her faith wouldn't be misplaced.

The aroma of dinner welcomed Rick when he opened the front door. Lullabies played on a battery operated toy and his daughter sat transfixed in a playpen. Michonne wore her hair pulled into a ponytail and had an apron tied around her tiny waist as she diced carrots and hummed to herself. He set the assignments on the counter as he paused to ogle her, knowing there'd be hell to pay when she spotted him.

"I didn't hear you!" she said. "How did it go?"

"Fine." He joined her in the kitchen with one thought on his mind. In a fluid motion, he removed the knife from her hand and pulled her into his arms. Their bodies fit together as if they were meant to. "Hey."

"I talked to Carl." She rested her hands on his upper arms. "He's okay with…with us."

"I knew he would be."

"He says that he hoped for this," she said. "The four of us together."

Rick smiled. "Me too."

"He also—"

"Ssh…"

He kissed her. Nice and slow. Deep and thorough. Until her sighs filled him and her fingers dug into his flesh. He pulled away only when the need to breathe outweighed his desire to taste her.

"Something's burning—" Carl said. "Oh." He stared but his expression wasn't displeased. "Well, it's still burning."

"We got this," Rick said, reluctantly releasing Michonne. "Dinner'll be ready soon."

"If it's not burnt to a crisp," Carl mumbled as he left the kitchen.

"How can I help?" Rick washed and dried his hands.

"You may be more of a distraction."

He laughed. "I'll finish the carrots. You do whatever you were doing…"

"Thanks." But there was a smile in her voice. "What did you get for us?"

"Constable for me," he said. "School for Carl and farm for you."

"Stop playing."

"I'm not." He frowned. "I wasn't sure if you'd want something different so I didn't push. I'll go back after dinner or in the morning."

"Farm?" she asked. "Really?"

"You wanna be my partner?" His tone was flirtatious and he knew from her smile that she heard it.

"Maybe. Did you get Daryl?"

"Nope," he said. "Glenn."

"Good. Either Daryl or Glenn is fine with me."

He laughed. "Maybe I should head back to the farm. I was pretty good at it."

"You were." She checked a small roast that was in the oven. It was a little crispy around the edges but not too bad. "You were a great farmer. If that's what you want to do, you should."

"I'll think about it," he said the words but his thoughts were consumed with the coziness of their living arrangements.

This was special. They weren't outside, cooking over a fire and worrying that the small rabbit wasn't enough to sate their hunger. Soon, they would sit at a table and eat dinner until they were full. Later, maybe he and Michonne would share a bed. Even if she decided against it, at least the four of them were together with walls around them and a roof overhead. Maybe his misgivings had been wrong about this place and Michonne had been right. He could live with that. Right or wrong aside, so far this had turned out far better than he had ever hoped.

**[A/N: Thank you all for your wonderful response to the first chapter! Talk about motivation and inspiration! I try to respond to reviews, but with school stuff, I've gotten behind. However, you will hear from me. Maybe just slower than usual. FYI, there's a minor discrepancy in a detail between this chapter and the first. If you didn't catch it, I won't tell you what it is. If you caught it, please know that I'm aware of it and decided to let it fly. I prefer the history that this chapter created so I'm going with it. Last night's return of TWD was grueling. The Richonne moments were lovely, as usual, but wow on the rest. I wasn't ready. **** In future chapters, I think there'll be a healthy combo of angst and romance, but your thoughts/ideas are always appreciated. Thanks for reading! ****]**


	3. Chapter 3: Moonlight

Chapter 3: Moonlight

_moonlight (noun) – the light of the moon_

Daryl set the crossbow, bolts, and his bowie knife on the ground before he sat on the back steps. As advanced as the safe zone was, the head honchos were smart enough to conserve energy. Although street lamps provided some light, the moon and stars did most of the heavy lifting to illuminate the night sky. He scratched a match for the kerosene lamp at his feet. Then he reached for the knife first and started sharpening it.

The quiet was different here. The first week in the barracks unsettled him. After being on the road for so long and having to be aware of everything at once, the silence made him uneasy. That was the reason he slipped out the first time. He just needed something familiar and normal like the wild and rumbling moans of walkers. Having Sasha with him felt right, too. They never said much, but their movements were in sync. It reminded him of when they had coordinated runs back at the prison. Then, she was bossy, but her instincts were never off. Now, the bossiness had subsided, but her gut remained a good guide.

Crickets chirped nearby. He tried to focus on their song, but his thoughts drifted to Hershel. The old man was a tough sumbitch. Daryl remembered their last conversation if it could be called that. Just a few words passed between them. _You're a read badass_, Daryl told him and Hershel replied, _I am_. There could have been worst things said, but Daryl thought about that moment often. He preferred not to dwell on regrets, but what if Daryl had gone out with Michonne that day instead? Would he have died in Hershel's place? Or together, could he and Michonne have stopped the Governor before he destroyed their home? He wasn't sure if he believed in fate or destiny but he wondered about things.

When Sasha unpacked her bag, he saw her stuff Tyrese's hammer in the bottom drawer. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut after that. Her brother would disagree with them. After Tyrese the prison fell and he returned to the group, he avoided killing walkers unless confronted. Daryl wasn't sure if Rick and the others were aware, but Daryl noticed. Something happened out there. He never got a chance to ask Carol if she knew what bothered Tyrese and the time wasn't right to approach Sasha. Daryl knew Tyrese wasn't a coward, but he couldn't put his finger on what had changed him.

Daryl heard the boy's soft steps just as he smelled his scent. "C'mon out."

Noah pushed the back door open and stepped outside. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. "It feels good out here."

"The window's open?" Daryl returned the knife to the sheath at his belt and set the sharpener down. He started inspecting the bolts.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure about it. Y'know?" Noah sat beside Daryl. "There may be more at the armory."

Daryl nodded. "Why ain't you sure about the windows? The place's fortified."

"Yeah, it looks like it." Noah shrugged. "You never know."

"You can put up bars."

"What if there's a fire?" Noah asked.

"Can't have it both ways."

Noah picked up a bolt that Daryl discarded. He twirled it around in his hands. "I feel like I'm too old to go to school. I'd rather be doing something."

"You will be."

"I'm tired of being cooped up," Noah said. "I wanna…"

"What?" Daryl asked, tilting his head slightly to look at Noah.

"Go with you and Sasha," Noah answered. "I'm getting better. My leg isn't as bad as it was. I still limp, but I'm faster. I can handle my own."

Daryl shook his head. "It ain't what you think."

"I know what it is," Noah said quietly. "I need it, too. Let me come. Just one time."

"We can't have you slow us down," Daryl said. "Sometimes, we run."

"I made it this far," Noah said. "From Atlanta to here. I can do it. Just let me try. Once. That's all I'm asking."

Daryl looked away. "It ain't my call. Me and Sasha'll talk. We'll let you know."

"Thanks—"

"Don't thank me," Daryl said in a low voice. "Not for this. You think you know, but you don't. You don't know."

# #

The fog slowly cleared in the bathroom and Rick's reflection stared back at him. The sky blue eyes were familiar, but the bushy mass of hair on his face was not. Michonne had warned him months ago that his face was losing the war, and now that they had time to breathe, he could see what she meant. The mirror captured the image of a wild, untamed beast, and Rick supposed that he could be that when pushed. He would be that whenever it was necessary, but without her saying much more, he understood that Michonne needed this place to work. Not just for everyone else, although she was right that they could be on the road too long. But she needed it for her, too. A week ago, he would have said that his decision to join the safe zone community was because of his children and everyone else. He realized now, that his reasons went deeper. He needed a safe place just as much as the rest of them.

A shaving kit was stored in the bottom cabinet. He pulled out the scissors, razor, and cream and lined them up on the counter. Hand towels were placed nearby. He rubbed his hand over his beard and sighed. The damn thing itched, but at this point, he had gotten used to it. But it was time for it to go. His baby girl had never seen his full face.

Rick took the scissors and began snipping. He made sure to stand over the sink. The hairs began to fill the basin. He ran water to clear the sink before he started the other side and that's when Judith tossed her rattle from the crib. Cries soon followed. He left the scissors on the counter and headed to her, but Carl reached her first.

"Hey, sweet cheeks," Carl said, kissing his sister's nose. "What's wrong? Oh, boy. I know what's wrong."

"I'll change her," Rick said. He placed everything on the bed and waited for Carl to set her on the towel.

"I can do it," Carl offered.

"I know." Rick made quick work of changing the soiled diaper while also making Judith blow spit bubbles and giggle.

Carl took the trash outside and returned. Judith reached for him. Rick slowly handed her over.

"You're shaving it off?" Carl asked.

Rick nodded. He headed back to the bathroom and returned to the task of trimming the beard down to a manageable length. Carl, with Judith in his arms, followed and claimed a first row seat on the lid of the toilet. The boy tugged at imaginary hairs on his face. "Is there another razor?" he asked.

Rick bit back a smile. "No, we'll find you one or we can share."

"Sharing is good."

Judith cooed in agreement.

"Where's Michonne?" Rick asked. After the three of them finished dinner, Carl cleaned the kitchen while Michonne sat and leafed through a book about gardening. That's when Rick decided to take a shower.

"She's visiting Glenn and Maggie," Carl said. "I guess Tara and Eugene, too, since they're all in the same house."

"How long she's been gone?"

Carl shrugged. "Not long. We talked about farming some. Noelle and Dominik are helping out after school. I can, too."

"As long as you get your schoolwork done, first."

"I don't see what good book learning's gonna do for me now," Carl said. "I read on my own. Everything else is about survival."

Rick paused in lathering his face to stare at his son. "You'd be surprised what you can learn at school."

"I'll go—"

"I know," Rick said. "It's not a negotiation."

Carl nodded. Judith patted her brother's mouth and he gnawed her fingers. Her giggles broke the tension. "You know there's an extra bed in my room. I told Michonne she could stay there or maybe you could, but I guess it wouldn't be fair to leave Judith in here with her."

Rick resumed shaving. He wanted to hear where Carl was going with this before he offered his thoughts on the subject. His son continued to play with Judith as he spoke.

"She's not sure where she's sleeping tonight and…" Carl sighed. "Well, it's not fair to make her sleep somewhere she doesn't want to. As long as she's here with us, she should be able to sleep wherever she wants."

Rick turned the faucet on and let the water pour over the razor. While he did this, he said, "Are you asking me something, or telling me?"

"Michonne is… I…" He stood and moved to stand beside his father. "She's part of our family now, right?"

Rick recognized the maturity in his son's eyes and nodded. "I want her to be."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Rick said, his tone sharp.

"But Dad… You're still wearing your ring," Carl said, quietly. "I know what it means. Well, I think I do, and I know Michonne. If she's part of our family, are you gonna keep wearing that ring or will you take it off? Don't you think it makes a difference to her?"

In all honesty, Rick had forgotten about his wedding band. It was like the Colt and the red handled machete. Just things that he had and were always there. He couldn't remember the last time that he thought about Lori in the way a husband thought about his wife. He missed her, he guessed, but not in the way that wearing his wedding ring suggested.

"She say something to you?" he asked.

"You know she wouldn't," Carl answered. "I just thought… I don't know. I noticed it when you were kissing her and…"

"I'm sorry, Carl."

"I'm okay," his son said. "I miss Mom, but I'm okay. I want Michonne to stay."

"Me, too."

Rick pulled the ring off and handed it to Carl. "It's yours."

He shaved the beard off and Carl stayed by his side. Judith fell asleep during the quiet. When he finished, Rick carried the baby to the crib. Carl sat on the floor and waited. Rick joined him.

"Is she sleeping here, then?" Carl asked.

Rick rubbed a hand over his now smooth jawline. The nicks and cuts were minor. He leaned against the bed and stretched his jeans clad legs out before him. Pajamas were in the dresser, but he wasn't sure if he felt comfortable sleeping in anything other than street clothes. Tonight would be a test in more ways than one.

"I don't know," Rick said. "There's more to a relationship between a woman and a man than whether they sleep in the same bed."

"Good."

"Why do you say that?" Rick asked.

"I don't think Michonne is ready to sleep in here."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know Michonne."

# #

The barracks had showers. The spray of hot water had pricked Sasha's body like needles and although being clean soothed her body, it did little for her mind. She didn't question the decision to run a bath. Her mind still held the maze of dead walkers that she and Daryl left behind in the woods. Sometimes, she wished for a sword like Michonne's to feel the power of swiftly slashing through several at one time. But most of the time, she preferred the hand to hand moments of driving the blade through their skulls. Those were the thoughts she held onto as she undressed and slid into the tub filled with hot water and white bubbles.

A low moan escaped her but she was unaware of it. Her knees bent as she sunk low into the water, her chin just above the surface. She closed her eyes. Her body needed this. Her muscles ached from the miles walk into the forest and back again, then the climb over the fence. With her eyes shut, she saw only darkness and that's what she wanted.

Once she finished, she dressed in khakis, t-shirt, socks and boots. She found herself back in the living room with her rifle and cleaning supplies spread across the coffee table. She sat on the sofa. Taking care of her weapon was the best way to fill the time. Her hands moved through the motions easily. Calculated decisions were unnecessary.

Gabriel rattled pots and pans and made other noise in the kitchen. She heard water running and his low hum. A few minutes later, the water stopped. His breathing sounded near, but she didn't turn to look at him.

"There's dinner if you want it," he said.

She shook her head.

"I can make a plate."

"I'll get it later," she said.

"Um…" Gabriel began.

Sasha sighed, but still remained focused on the rifle. "What?"

"I can sleep on the couch and you can have the extra bed in the room with Noah if that would make you more comfortable," he said in a rush, as if the speech was practiced.

"I'm fine where I am."

He moved fully into the room. His loud breaths sound agitated, so she finally looked at him. Their gazes locked, but Sasha didn't blink. She smelled soap a moment before the sofa cushion beside her dipped.

"Here." Daryl dropped a handful of bullets into her palm. "Found them on that last run."

"Thanks," she murmured.

"I was telling Sasha that there's food in the kitchen," Gabriel said. "Noah and I didn't eat it all. There's plenty. I can get you a…"

"I'm good," Daryl said.

Sasha set the bullets on the table in a row. She finished wiping down the rifle, but her attention wafted between the weapon and the former man of the God. His nervous energy annoyed her. When they decided to live together, she reasoned that she could do it, but sometimes like right now…

"Do you like your assignments?" he asked. "Noah and I are both at the school. I thought you two would be together, but I guess it's close enough, right?"

Sasha tuned out his voice. Daryl leaned back against the sofa. He stretched his legs out before him until he found a comfortable position. As the quiet lengthened, Gabriel mumbled something about going to bed and left them.

Daryl nudged her arm. "I'll sleep here."

She frowned at him. "No, don't mind him."

Sasha dreaded the thought of being alone. With only the sounds of her breath keeping her awake. They had all been together as a group for days now. Even in the barracks, she hadn't been completely isolated. He wouldn't understand if she told him, so she swallowed the words.

"The bed is big enough and you smell fresh like Zest or Ivory or something," she said. "It'll be fine. I'm okay with it."

"You tired yet?" he asked.

"I can't tell the difference anymore."

Daryl stood and checked the lock on the front door. He paused at the sofa. "C'mon."

She followed him to the bedroom. The rifle was set within reaching distance, as was his crossbow. She went to the windows and opened the curtains. The moon was a perfect circle. Yellow, bright, and glowing. She kept the curtains open so she could see the night sky from a distance. Behind her, Daryl moved the bed so that it faced the window better. He waited for her to choose the side she wanted to sleep on.

She chose the left and dropped on top of the covers. He took the right. They kicked off their shoes once they were settled. Their bodies didn't touch, but she could hear his breaths and they were even with hers. Sasha stared out the window for hours. Even without looking at him, she sensed that Daryl did the same.

# #

Michonne stood with Glenn on the porch of his new home. His face was tight and his shoulders slumped. She leaned against the column as she waited for the apology she knew would come.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Maggie is… It's getting better. Maybe tomorrow will be different. The community garden sounds…exciting."

"Not as exciting as what you and Rick are signed up to do," Michonne said.

"I don't know." Glenn shrugged. "Things seem pretty tame here. A week in the barracks and it was quiet. The garden probably has more chances for adventure."

"We'll see."

Glenn gave her a half smile. "Thanks for trying tonight. Maggie appreciates it. I know she does."

"You don't have to speak for her," Michonne said. "I understand. You don't have to apologize either."

"Tara told me to stop." He laughed.

"Listen to her," Michonne advised. "It isn't necessary."

"I'm glad you came over. Not just for Maggie," he said. "It felt good to have a friend over in our home. I never thought I'd be able to say that again."

She stepped from the porch. The katana pressed against her thigh. She held it in place without thinking about it, just a natural reflex now.

"Wait…Let me walk you—"

Michonne waved away his good intentions. "I'm good. Goodnight."

"G'night, Michonne." Glenn stayed on the porch, and Michonne knew that he watched her walk across the yard.

Halfway there, a tall man with dark curly hair greeted her with a wide grin. He had a clean-shaven face, and unmistakable blue eyes even under the glow of stars and moonlight. Still, the temptation to tease was hard to resist. "Who are you?" she asked.

Rick laughed and took her hand. He guided them to the front porch where they sat on the top steps. The cool air was a welcome change from the unrelenting heat that dogged the last legs of their journey. From their position, they had a good view of the neighborhood. The community center that also housed the barracks for new arrivals was on the far end of the block. Otherwise, residential houses took up the area, except for the lone former FEMA trailer that was now the unemployment office.

"How's Maggie?" he asked.

"Resting," she said. "Glenn worries, but she's strong."

"She is," Rick agreed. "We all are." He squeezed her hand between both of his. "I was thinking about your work assignment—"

"I want it try it out," she said. "I'm a grown woman, Rick. If I don't like it, I know what to do."

"I know. I just…"

"Don't do that," she said. "You don't have to."

He nodded. "Nik invited us to dinner tomorrow night. He said everyone's invited."

"Think Dawn knows about that?"

They laughed.

She turned toward him. Seeing him smile without the interference of facial hair was interesting. She knew he was a handsome man. The beard had added character and at times savagery. Clean-shaven provided a different dynamic. He appeared open and less guarded. On automatic, her hand curved his jawline and stroked the rigid planes. His skin's texture wasn't as rough as she had imagined. The smoothness felt good against her fingertips.

"Like it?" His Southern twang deepened.

"Yeah."

His kiss was no surprise. But the gentleness of it was intoxicating. His mouth moved slowly against hers. There was little insistence from his tongue and his hands remained on hers. In fact, this was quite chaste in comparison to the other kisses they had shared. When they parted, she had questions, but he answered before she had to voice the first one.

"I don't want to rush you," he said, running his fingers along her neck. "I was pushy. I want you to be sure."

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

"Sex is a big step—"

"Really?"

He laughed. "I know just hear me out. Carl isn't a kid anymore. He's paying attention, maybe better than I am. If we share a bed tonight…"

Michonne squeezed his hand and noticed that his left hand was ringless. "It's gone," she said.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I've been thinking about what it will mean to the kids if we do this," she said. "The world is different, but some things haven't changed. Judith needs a mother and Carl needs… I guess he does, too."

"I understands if you're not ready for that," he said. "I don't come solo, but I _want_ you and not just as a mother for my children. You're more to me than that."

Michonne quietly accepted his words. Minutes passed, and they went back inside. The couch was made up with pillows, sheet, and a blanket. Judith was asleep in a crib in the corner.

"The bedroom is yours," Rick said. "Whenever you're ready, I'll share it with you."

When Michonne went to bed, she lay there, refusing to allow herself to think or feel. Before the outbreak, a life with Mike and Andre had been all she ever wanted. Her little Peanut was adorable. In his round brown eyes, she saw the best of her and of Mike. She had dreamed of growing old and one day rocking her grandchildren in her arms, filling them with stories about their father when he was a curious little toddler. For a long time, it had pained her that those dreams would never come to pass.

First with Andrea then Rick and Carl now even Judith, the hurt eased some. But those dreams had been so vivid. Even with Mike gone, she sometimes ached for their little boy. His curls always felt so soft against her cheek and he had a smell that was uniquely his own. Judith did, too. As did Carl.

Michonne was not one to run away from hard truths. Rick came with extras. On most days, she wanted everything—him and his children. But the devastation in Maggie's eyes made her remember the horrors of losing it all. She was unsure if she could survive that again. She had endured that dark place once. Cowardice was not her way, but nor was the foolhardy choice of running straight into danger. _On the bright side_, she laughed softly at herself at the thought, _Rick is willing to wait. A little time_, she told herself, was all she needed. _Just to be sure._

[A/N: Thank you all for reading, following, favoriting, reviewing, and kudoing. TWD fandom is fabulous! :-) A different Chapter 3 was originally planned, but your feedback convinced me that this version of Chapter 3 had to be written. I'll have to make some edits/changes to Chapter 4 to make it flow better now, but you'll have a gist of what was going to follow Chapter 2 instead. Anyway, all that was to say this—your comments are a goldmine. Keep them flowing. (No, that metaphor doesn't work, but I know you get it, right? Lol) In the current version of Chapter 4 which may change due to inspiration, new characters are introduced and hints of future conflict appear. But we'll see. Last week's ep was amazing! I loved everything Sasha/Michonne and the blink-or-you'll-miss-it Richonne moment around the fire. And the new Judith is adorable! The ending with Maggie and Sasha summed up so much for both. Love that their friendship is canon. More please! Oh, if you're reading _Declarations_, this chapter was longer than I expected (stop laughing) and I know the next part of _Declarations_ will be a doozy, so it's coming just not this weekend. If you're not reading _Declarations_, check it out. ;-)]


	4. Chapter 4: Ebony

Chapter 4: Ebony

_ebony (adjective) – very dark or black_

Michonne contemplated leaving her katana on the wall over the fireplace before she left for her morning shift, but she couldn't part with the weapon, yet. The high walls made it all appear safe. She wanted to believe what her eyes were seeing. Then she remembered the Governor. How safe they had felt until the prison had been attacked. With a family of her own again, she dared not take any chances that would risk them.

Upon her arrival at the community garden, a few eyed the sword with open curiosity. Some looked on with disapproval. She ignored them. Before she left, Rick had offered again to have her assignment changed. She wanted to see this farming thing through. At least for the day.

"Morning." Nik handed her a bottle of water. "I hear we work half days at first."

She looked at him and smiled. "They wanna try us out. Make sure we play well with others."

He laughed. "We'll see."

Maggie arrived. Her response to greetings was noncommittal. Her eyes were puffy, but not as red as they had been the night before during Michonne's visit. Grief had a way of taking its toll and Michonne knew that Maggie would return in due time. She had everyone around her. That would have to be enough until she was ready.

A bell rang and called their attention. Michonne, her friends, and other newcomers moved under the tent to listen to the person at the podium. Other workers headed into the garden. Michonne glanced around. There was order to the movements. She supposed the people prided themselves on running a tight ship.

"Welcome, I'm Kris," the blonde woman said. "We're happy to have you with us today. From your credentials, this seemed to be the best placement for you."

Nik looked at Michonne and smirked. She shook her head. _Credentials? Yeah, right._

"For the first week or so," Kris continued, "you'll work half days. During this time, you'll rotate. The community garden is more than planting seeds and digging dirt. Farming sustains us.

"I'll call your name and your mentor will take you to your assignment. Nikolas—"

"Call me Nik."

Kris gave him a faint smile. "You're paired with Nathan."

"Maggie, you're with Blake," Kris said.

Blake and Nathan came, but they waited until the other names were called.

"Misha, you're also with Nathan."

None of the other newcomers moved. Maggie nudged Michonne's arm. "Maybe she means you?" she whispered.

Michonne frowned.

"Is Misha not here today?" Kris asked.

"Are you sure it's not Michonne?" Nik asked, a frown wrinkling his brow.

"Michonne?" Kris ran her finger across the page. "I thought the name was misspelled."

"It isn't," Michonne said.

"Anyway, you and Nik are with Nathan." Kris offered a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You can go now."

Nik and Michonne followed Nathan outside. The man was older, carried a clipboard, and seemed very officious. Michonne recognized that he took his role seriously.

"Have either of you ever farmed before?" Nathan asked.

"Nope," Nik said.

"Me either," Michonne replied.

"Not surprised. There's not much to it if you have common sense," Nathan said, "but it's not for everyone. Let 'em know if it's not for you. Everybody has a place here. You just have to find where your best fit is."

"Are assignments randomly given?" Nik asked.

Nathan shook his head. "No, weren't y'all screened? You know, processed…filled out the questionnaire or talked to Aggie?"

"I haven't seen Aggie since the day we arrived," Michonne said.

"She and Ben came by the barracks a couple of days in," Nik added. "Remember?"

"Yeah, but I didn't talk to either of them one on one," she said. "Did you?"

"No," Nik said. "You think Rick made suggestions?"

"Rick wouldn't do that," Michonne said.

"How did you know to come here?" Nathan asked. He had walked them to a tent that served as an office space. Along the wall was a shelf of various seed packets. Buckets were stacked in neat columns. Shovels leaned against the wall.

"We picked up assignments at the employment office yesterday," Nik said.

Nathan's brow creased. He tapped his pencil against the clipboard. "I'll find out what happened. Unless something changes, you're here…"

"I'm fine with it," Nik said.

Michonne shrugged. "Me, too, but it still holds that if this doesn't work, we can switch to something else, right?"

"Sure," Nathan said. "Of course."

# #

The return inside the walls had been a close one. Daryl wondered if the switch to Linc had been intentional. He had kept a low profile when slipping out, especially so whenever Sasha joined him. They always made sure to do their business far out and away from the compound. A few times, he even returned with provisions, which they shared in secret. If having her with him felt strange, the feeling had long since worn off. They were in sync about things. Other than Rick or Michonne, there weren't too many he'd trust to have his back. Sasha had made the list without him thinking twice about it.

"I can't believe I got stuck in the infirmary with Dawn," Sasha said as they headed toward the row of buildings behind the constable office.

Gabriel and Noah had left for school. Noah as a student, but Daryl had no idea what Gabriel was supposed to do there. The preacher man was still as skittish as a newborn calf. Since housing assignments, they hadn't seen much of the rest of the group. Daryl wasn't sure if he was excited about the prospect of running into anyone. They were all so sympathetic after Carol died. It made him feel worse. Michonne understood, but he sensed her worry. And he didn't need that either.

"It's a damn sight better than the pantry," he muttered.

"You could've changed it," she said.

He shrugged, adjusting the bow so that it fit better on his shoulder.

"You brought your crossbow anyway," Sasha said.

"It works," he said. The orders read weaponry was unnecessary. The unstated orders were for them to leave their stuff at home. Daryl didn't care. "You wearing your piece?"

She lifted her shirt to reveal the pistol in her hip holster. He smirked.

"Dawn's not bad. She's quick," he said. "It could be worse."

"Wonder where everyone else is?"

Daryl glanced off. "Aroun'."

"Duh." She rolled her eyes.

He chuckled. "I know. Looks like Rick and Glenn are headed to the po-po."

"They're splitting us up," she muttered.

"Yup," Daryl agreed.

"Wonder why?"

"Ain't everythin' a fuckin' conspiracy and shit, Sasha," he said with a smirk.

"I don't get why we couldn't choose our assignments," she said. "Noah said that Michonne is farming. That's a waste. Maggie and Nik, too."

"Maybe it's what Maggie needs right now."

Sasha frowned. "And maybe it's not."

"Farmers get half days at first. Not bad." Daryl became thoughtful. If he needed out, working part-time would be ideal. He knew when Sasha realized the same thing.

"Think we could switch with them?" she asked.

"Morning!" Jessie greeted them on the sidewalk. Daryl remembered her from their first couple of days inside the safe zone. She was always hovering around and had a curious look about her. She stood near the entrance to the pantry. "Ian's waiting for you, Sasha."

"Thanks," Sasha muttered, walking toward the infirmary next door.

Daryl watched Sasha leave. Even annoyed, she moved with confidence. Neither of them had slept well, but no one could tell by looking at her. When he felt Jessie's stare, he turned his focus on the short blonde.

"What's your job?" Daryl asked.

"The pantry," she said.

"Are you the boss?" Daryl frowned.

"It's not like that."

Jessie went inside the building and he followed. Other people were already inside. Most of them were strangers. Unlike the prison where he took time to get to know everyone, he hadn't done the same there. Instead, he preferred to duck out and find solace in the wild. Sasha's silence was good enough company for him.

"So what's it like?" Daryl asked.

"We all just help out," Jessie said. "Do what needs doing."

Daryl rubbed his chin. He hadn't felt this out of place in a long time. The pantry also served food just like restaurants back in the old days, and it housed supplies. The stock was about even. With the number of people there, someone would need to do a run soon. He was about to offer when she touched his arm. He reared back.

"You don't need that," she said point at his crossbow," here."

"It goes where I go."

She nodded. "Okay then. Everybody rotates. We have you down for kitchen. Can you cook?"

He just stared at her.

"It's just for today. Most people come in for lunch instead of using their rations at home. If you don't like cooking today, you can do something else tomorrow."

Daryl folded his arms across his chest. "What if I don't like it at all?"

She frowned. "What if you do?"

He looked outside. The idea of being stuck inside all day made him edgy. He had a bad feeling about it. Like he wouldn't fit in.

"Just try," Jessie said. "One day."

"Yeah," he muttered, "one day."

# #

Rick arrived at the armory the same time as Glenn. They were surprised that no one else from their group was there. Rick expected to see Abraham or Rosita, too. But it was just him and Glenn.

A stocky white man with a baldhead and a clipboard approached them. He frowned at Glenn before I giving his full attention to Rick. "I'm Raymond," he said. "Rick and Glenn, right? Aggie asked me to check in with you and see if there was anything you needed. We have guns, grenades, and some ammo. There are a few uniforms in the back. I think they'll fit."

"How is the schedule rotated?" Glenn asked.

"There is no schedule," Raymond said.

"How many people are on the roster?" Rick asked.

"Just you and him."

Rick frowned. "What do you want us to do? Just the two of us?"

"Keep order," Raymond replied.

"With only two officers?" Rick questioned. "Has there been much trouble?"

"Not much. With more people coming in, Aggie thought we needed to get some structure in place."

"What's the total count?" Glenn asked.

"Close to 40." Raymond glanced at his clipboard and crossed off a note with his pencil. "My office is this way."

He led them to a room in the front corner of the building. The office reminded Rick of what he left behind in Kings County. There was even a police scanner on the desk, as well as, a stack of files. Raymond indicated for them to sit in the two cushy chairs that faced his desk. He settled in the leather office chair and looked ready to get down to business.

"What do you do?" Glenn asked.

Raymond took his time before he answered. "You get the weapons from me. I keep count of everything. Whatever you need, you come to me."

"We have our own weapons," Glenn said.

"When you're on duty, you'll be using these." Raymond looked at his clipboard again. "Another thing… The ebony one came in with you, right?"

"Ebony?" Rick repeated, his tone biting.

"The one with the sword," Raymond clarified.

"Her name is Michonne."

"What kind of name is that?"

"Are you serious?" Rick asked.

Raymond reared back. "Is she your woman? No offense intended. She's different, you know?"

"What about her?" Glenn asked. "Different how?"

"The sword…" Raymond shrugged.

"We've all been allowed to keep our weapons," Rick stated. "_All_ of us."

"Some have been concerned about it is all I'm saying."

"Assure them they have nothing to worry about," Rick said.

A short while later, Rick and Glenn took their uniforms and headed home. Raymond suggested that they work out a schedule. Once they had it, he wanted a copy. Rick couldn't leave the armory fast enough. Glen kept Rick's pace.

"Stupid isn't going anywhere," Glenn said.

"No, it isn't."

"You okay?"

"Fine," Rick muttered.

"I'll see you at your place in 15."

Rick nodded and continued to his house next door. He tossed the uniform onto the sofa. His footsteps thudded on the hardwood floor. Anger burned inside him. His chest felt as if it would explode. The front door creaked open. Michonne appeared with Judith in her arms. Her smile was beautiful until she read his face. She closed the door and went to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He kissed both her and Judith on their cheeks. The baby stared. She was still getting used to his clean-shaven face.

"Nothing," he said.

"Don't do that. Tell me."

"It's stupid," he muttered. "Dumb. Bullshit."

"Nothing I can't handle." She gave him Judith and removed the katana from around her shoulders. She set the sword down within easy reach. She then took his hand and led him back to the living room. "Sit," she said.

Rick obeyed.

Michonne then sat on the coffee table across from him, her hands resting on his knees. Judith tugged at Michonne's fingers. In a softer voice, Michonne said, "Was there a problem at the armory?"

"How did it go at the garden?"

"Rick…"

"Tell me," he said. "Please."

"Okay. Fine." She shrugged. "Nik and I are paired together. Nathan is our supervisor."

"What do you think about him?"

"He seems fair. He was surprised that we were assigned to the garden without speaking to Aggie or anyone else."

"How did it go with the others? Do you like them?"

"Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated?" she asked.

Rick kissed Judith's forehead. "You're not. I just want to know if you had a good day."

"Right. There's more to it though, isn't there?"

"We met Raymond."

"What do you think about him?" she asked with a smile.

Rick returned the gesture, knowing that she was mocking him. But as he considered her a question, his smile faded. "He referred to you as ebony."

She looked at her toned arms and chuckled. "Well, I am."

"It's how he said it."

"Some things will never change." She stared at him. "Was there something else?"

Rick returned her stare. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you." She squeezed his knees. "What else?"

"That's all." He placed Judith on the sofa beside him. He then bent forward to kiss Michonne. The kiss deepened. Soon, she was on his lap. Rick had craved the taste of her all morning. Her response inflamed him. He cupped her breast. The pounding of her heart thudded against his palm. He was about to remove her top when Judith giggled and a knock sounded at the door.

Michonne stood and adjusted her top while he answered the knock. Glenn dressed in uniform waited on the other side.

"You're not ready," Glenn said.

"Not yet," Rick replied, "Come in. Give me five minutes."

Five minutes later, Rick faced Michonne, Glenn, and Judith in full constable uniform. The attire felt both weird and right. Glenn nodded. Judith blew spit bubbles. But Michonne's response was the one he drew strength from. Her brown eyes lit up and she sighed.

"Constable Grimes," she said, "very nice to meet you."

"I'm here to serve and protect, ma'am."

"I'll remember that," she said.

Glenn tried to hide his laugh with a cough. He wasn't successful. But they ignored him anyway.

**[A/N: Thanks everyone for your fantastic response! This story won't exactly follow the series' current storyline so be warned. There may be a few similar characters, but overall I'm going in a different direction with this one unlike **_**Declarations**_**. The next chapter will continue to focus on them adjusting to the safe zone with complications arising. Your thoughts are always appreciated so don't hesitate to share. :-) ****]**


End file.
